


take up a little of the collapsing space

by retweet_this



Category: Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US), Real News RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Escapism, F/M, Love Isn't a Straight Line, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 04:02:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12050883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retweet_this/pseuds/retweet_this
Summary: Everyone needs a little escape.





	take up a little of the collapsing space

The first thing Jake says when he gets home, before ‘hello’ or ‘hi’ or ‘I love you’ is, “I don’t want to get a divorce.” He just goes right up to her, right at the kitchen table and just hovers by the entrance. He says it again. “I don’t want to get a divorce.”

Jen looks up from her book and blinks. “Okay,” she says, slowly, “I know this might sound terrible, but when did we have a conversation about getting divorced?”

“We didn’t,” he assures her.

She lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good, because for a second there, I thought I was going crazy.” Her fingers hover around the corner of her book, as though she’s going to turn the page but. she doesn’t. She just looks at him. “So, what happened that made you want to come home and tell me you don’t want a divorce?”

“Nothing,” Jake says. It comes out too quickly and he punctuates it with a shrug so she knows he’s lying but he tries rolling with it anyway. He clears his throat. “Um, where are the kids?”

“Well, considering that you usually shout, ‘I’m home’ when you come in through the door, I doubt they noticed that you’re here.” Jen tucks her book under her arm as she gets to her feet, pushing the desk under the table, and she steps over to him. “Come on,” she hums. “I’m sure they’ll love the surprise.”

He takes her hand and they walk up the stairs together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lights are off, the blinds are closed, kids in bed, just the hum of the fan making noise. Jake looks up at the ceiling and Jen is curled up beside him. For a moment, everything seems nice and calm. And then he just has to go and open his mouth. “You know, John and Dana got divorced.”

Jen leans over and turns the lights on. “For fuck’s sake, Jake,” she sighs, “I’m trying to sleep before I have to wake up in like, two hours when the kids are up and running again.”

“Sorry,” Jake mumbles. He tries to shrug but it’s hard to convey while he’s lying down. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll try and shut up for now.”

“Are you sure you’re going to sleep or are you just going to lie there for the rest of the night and silently freak out until you wake me up again?” she rolls her eyes when she’s met with silence, propping up her pillows and crossing her arms.

He sits up too, light blush creeping up his neck as he clears his throat. “It’s stupid, I know,” he admits. “You – I can try to go back to sleep.”

“Jake, sweetie, it’s fine,” Jen says. She gestures him over and pulls him in. “Come on, tell me why you’ve been thinking about this. I mean, I cannot remember the last time either of us even thought about divorce.”

“Didn’t we see a movie about it once?” he ducks his head, stifling a smile when she glares, before trailing off into a sigh. “Well, you know, like I said, John and Dana used to be together.”

“Yes, but that was _years_ ago. There’s no way you could still be upset by that – I don’t think even they’re upset by it.”

“You don’t know that,” Jake points out, but when her look turns a little harsher, he quickly turns demure. He looks down in his lap. “I… I heard Jim’s getting divorced.”

“Oh,” Jen blinks. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting this sort of answer.

He nods. “Yeah. He and his wife, Sharon, they’d been married for over twenty years, they have three kids, they’re younger than I am, by just a few years, and yet…” For a moment, his voice fails him, but he manages to push past the lump to say, “And yet they’re giving it all up.”

“Oh, Jake,” she sighs, and she wraps her arms around him, kissing his head as he rests against her. “Jake, they’re not us. We’re not going to just get divorced one day, you know?”

“I know,” he says. He presses a kiss to her shoulder. “I know.” That doesn’t mean he’s not going to obsess about it for the foreseeable future until something else comes along to take up his mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They have about two minutes before Jim has to return to his liveshot, and Jake can see him on his screen, looking down at his phone and likely scrolling through Twitter.

He clears his throat. _Don’t fuck this up._ “So,” he starts, then pauses, then just blurts it out. “Divorce, huh?”

Rahmeen, behind the cameras, slaps his forehead and lets out a long sigh. Jake wishes he could bury his head in his hands, why did he say that right after he told himself not to fuck up?

Jim looks up into the camera. “Jake?” he says, voice coming through the speakers.

There’s a couple of seconds where Jake forgets Jim can’t see him and he wants to hit himself in the face for making a stupid mistake like that _again_. “Yes?”

“I think,” he says, slowly, in his own newscaster voice, “that for your sake, we should just _pretend_ we talked about my personal life and not _actually_ talk about my personal life.” He flashes a smile that does absolutely nothing to hide his exasperation. “Sound good?”

Behind the screen, Rahmeen is tapping his wrist in the universal gesture for _hurry the fuck up, we have real things to do_ , and Jake takes a breath. “Okay,” he says. He takes a short sip of his water and puts his default neutral expression on just as the cameras return.

Jim talks, Jake thanks him, and they move on as though nothing even happened. And they could’ve certainly pretended that nothing had happened and Jake is perfectly content with doing that, except for the fact that Rahmeen brings it up again as soon as the show is over.

He waits until he’s taken off Jake’s mike to hit the side of his head. “That was the least self-aware I’ve ever seen you,” he grumbles softly.

“You’re telling me,” Jake mumbles. He runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “It’s just… divorce is a touchy subject, you know? I’m not sure how to…” he gestures vaguely as he trails off.

Rahmeen just shakes his head. He doesn’t say anything else, not out loud, but Jake’s fairly certain he hears him mumble something about ‘dumb white boys’ under his breath. Which, to be fair, isn’t entirely uncalled for.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So,” Jen says, as she buckles herself in, “where are we headed?” She takes a moment to check her phone before putting it away in her pocket and looking over at him.

Jake shrugs, eyes focused on the road. “I don’t know,” he says. “Just, anywhere you want.”

“Well, there’s this _great_ place up in Canada.” She starts laughing when he rolls his eyes, playfully nudging his arm. “Come on, you said anywhere.”

“That I did,” he hums. They arrive at a stoplight and he looks over to find her on her phone again. He sighs. “Jen…”

Jen blushes. “Sorry,” she says, shoving her phone away again. She gives him a sheepish look. “I know we’ve got the sitter and everything, but you never know, something might happen.”

“Jen,” Jake sighs again. “You know that if I wasn’t driving, I’d be doing the exact same thing you are, right?” He catches her smile just as the light turns green and he smiles back. It’s always a delight to see her smile.

But with the sigh she lets out a couple of seconds later, he thinks the smile is gone. She rests her head against the window and looks out. “This is going to be nice, right?” she turns her head and looks over at him. “Just us, out for dinner? We haven’t done any sort of date night sort of thing in a while now, have we?”

And Jake wants to say, _no, we have, remember,_ except he’s thinking about it now and no, no they haven’t. There hasn’t been a time recently where it was just the two of them out in the world, without anyone else.

“No,” he says. “No, we haven’t.” He presses his lips together and then says, “Why don’t we make a plan, hm? How about we don’t talk about work or politics or the kids all night?”

She’s silent for a moment, still looking at him, and he can feel the hair rise on his arms. He wonders what she’s thinking until she says, “But then what would we talk about?”

The fact that neither of them have an immediate answer scares him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the dishes have been put away and the kids are off having their last few moments of fun before it’s bedtime, Jen walks over and leans against the table. He doesn’t really notice her until she pointedly clears her throat.

“You know,” she says, slowly, “when Jack called you out for being on your phone, I was certain that you would wait until at least bedtime before going back on.”

Jake flushes, just a little, and he looks up at her. “You know this is my job, right? Going on Twitter and communicating with the masses?”

“You sound like you’re a part of the second estate and not the fourth when you say stuff like that.” She sits down beside him and pours herself a glass of water. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really,” he shrugs. “Just more of the same – people complaining about me, people complaining about other reporters, reporters complaining about each other…”

“A real wretched hive of scum and villainy, huh?”

He grins. “You know I love you, right?”

Jen mimes flicking her water at him and they both laugh, Jake’s eyes sliding back to his phone as she pulls out her own. And then it gets very quiet, almost eerily so, just as he reads a couple of very… very _mean_ tweets.

He just scrolls past them, though. What else is he supposed to do? He wonders what the kids are doing. He sighs.

“That’s what you get for not listening to your son when he told you to get off your phone,” she says, setting hers down. She holds out her hand. “Come on, let’s go do something else.”

“Okay.”

They end up just going to bed after the kids.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He runs into them right outside his office. Literally. His chest bumps against Jim’s and his nose brushes his cheek and they both hobble backwards a moment as they try to regain their balance. Jake recovers first and he tilts his head. “What – what are you guys doing here?”

Jim shrugs, a little sheepish, and gestures to Jeff beside him. “He can’t drive, so I had to bring him here.” He wraps an arm around his shoulders and grins as Jeff pushes him away.

Jake blinks and raises his brow at him. “You really can’t drive?”

“Hey, knowing how to drive is homophobic,” Jeff huffs, crossing his arms.

“If you say so,” Jim hums, and he’s still looking at Jeff with that ridiculous grin of his. Jake doesn’t know how he feels about it.

Jeff rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a sigh. “God, I can’t go anywhere with you,” he mumbles. “Okay, just stay here, I’ll go get my things. Try not to get into any trouble.” He punctuates a glare at Jim, softening when he turns to Jake, and then walks away, leaving the two of them alone.

They just look around for a couple of moments, sometimes at each other but mostly not, mostly anywhere but. It’s awkward. Jake clears his throat.

“So,” he says, “aren’t you two supposed to be at the White House?”

“I am,” Jim clarifies. He leans against the wall, right next to Jake’s office, and Jake finds himself leaning too. His arms are still crossed but it doesn’t feel like he has the upper hand, not at all.

“I know,” Jake replies. “I was told you were gonna be the correspondent from the White House.” He pauses, shifting slightly. “So, I guess you’re going back there after this, huh?”

Jim laughs, all of a sudden, warm and rumbling. “Wow,” he hums. “Deductive reasoning like that is probably why you’re the bigshot anchor and I’m just the lowly correspondent.”

It’s ridiculous and stupid but Jake can’t help but let out a giggle. “That’s - that’s not funny,” he tries to say, trying not to smile.

“I don’t know,” Jim shrugs, “I mean, you’re laughing, aren’t you?” He leans forward, just a little, smile still plastered on like it always is.

Jake tries to swat him away. “Don’t you have some ideological argument to get into?”

“Don’t you have some dad jokes to tweet?” Jim waggles his brows.

And oh, Jake knows for certain he’s blushing now, forcing himself not to stammer or lisp, and he’s got a good comeback, of course he does, something better than _that’s not even a good comeback_.

Except Jeff finally returns, a few files tucked under his arm, as he gestures for Jim. “All right, I’m good to go. We’ve got about an hour until your shot and you promised me we were going to get dessert before that.”

“I am a man of my word,” Jim assures him. He pushes himself off the wall and straightens out his jacket, then takes a moment to look back at Jake. “You’ll catch me later, Jake,” he smiles. “I won’t be seeing you but, well, you’ll be seeing me.”

“God, you’re so fucking weird,” Jeff mumbles as they start walking away, to which Jim replies, “And you’re not?” Their laughter trails through the hallways and Jake watches them go. They look happy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey Jake, you left something in the mail room,” Rahmeen says, stepping inside and holding up what looks to be a nice bottle of whiskey.

Jake blinks. “That’s for me?”

“Oh yeah,” he hums. He sets it down on the table before him. “I guess you’ve got some admirers out there… What am I saying, you’re always on Twitter, you know people love you.”

“Aw, free alcohol,” Brianna sighs with a shake of her head. “Man, I remember the days when _I_ used to get all sorts of gifts.”

“That was because you were getting married,” Jake reminds her. He picks the bottle up and gives it a cursory examination. Clearly whoever got him this doesn’t know he’s not a big drinker. But the sentiment is appreciated, definitely.

“Yeah,” she sighs again. “But it would be nice to get free booze now, too.”

“Did someone say free booze?” Jeff walks over, Sara right behind him, and he stops in his tracks when he sees the scene. He groans. “Aw, come on, now people are mailing _you_ free alcohol too?”

“Too?” Jake raises a brow.

“Jim’s been getting free stuff in the mail,” Jeff huffs. “You know, people seem to forget the fact that Trump called me out _by name_ and all he did to Jim was call him a real beauty which, if you think about it, isn’t actually an insult.”

Sara rolls her eyes and stifles a grin, while Brianna just gives him a blank stare. Jake feels the corners of his mouth lift as he says, “Well, Jeff, if you really want this, you’re free to take it.”

“I don’t want your charity beer, I want my own.” He lets out another huff, lips pursed together, and he stomps out of the room.

“And he wonders why he’s single,” Sara sighs, before bursting into laughter.

Jake ends up taking the drink back into his office a couple of hours later, while he’s checking his email. The TV is on in the background, the press briefing about to begin, and it’s really just the calm before the storm because moments later, Stephen Miller is at the podium and he and Jim are getting into this contentious exchange and oh god, did Jim just imply that the only people in the world who spoke English were from the UK and Australia?

Oh fuck, Jake can’t watch this – and worse, he can’t look away. And worse still, it’s only after he’s drunk about half of it that he realizes he’s drinking straight from the bottle. He’s bringing the bottle back to his lips (god, why hasn’t he stopped yet?) just as the door opens.

Brianna pops her head in. “Hey, Jake, if you’re still serious about giving the bottle of booze away,” she starts, then stops when she sees him. There’s a beat of silence, and then she says, “You know what, never mind.”

She closes the door behind her and Jake spends the rest of his free time searching how to appear less drunk in the shortest amount of time possible. He’s got like, what, half an hour before the show? Yeah, he should be fine.

When he comes home, Jen asks him, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, through his raging headache and mild guilt. He smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he steps inside, it takes Jake a couple of seconds to analyze the smell. It’s definitely burning, yes, but it doesn’t smell like burning _food_ , though. And besides, Jen rarely ever burned her food – and that was only because he tried to have sex with her while she was cooking so it wasn’t even her fault.

The door to the backyard is open and he steps right through, dropping his bag on the couch and heading out to find her sitting out on the patio right across from a book covered in flames.

It takes Jake a couple of moments to think of something to say and what he says is, “What the fuck?”

“Hey, sweetie, welcome home,” Jen hums. She takes a short sip from a pouch of Capri-Sun and looks up at him. “How was work?”

“Exhausting,” he replies, slowly. He clears his throat. “Um… why are you burning a book?” If it even is a book – it _looks_ like a book but he’s been fooled before.

“It was boring,” she shrugs and leans back against her arm. She’s looking out into the distance, almost ethereally, were it not for the whole absurdity of the situation.

Jake has no idea how to respond. “Boring,” he repeats. “You thought the book was… boring. And you decided to just… burn it.”

“I know it’s a dramatic reaction,” Jen sighs, “but hear me out.” She finishes her juice and sets it aside before looking back to him. “I spent a good month reading that book – a good _month_. That’s thirty days of my life that I devoted to this book to no avail. Thirty days that I will never get back to spend on anything else.

“It’s a fucking betrayal, is what it is, and that’s why I’m burning it,” she finishes.

There’s really nothing Jake can say in response to this. She’s arrived at this conclusion on her own at some point while he was out and for whatever reason, she seems contented with it.

He holds out his arm. “Come on,” he says, softly. “Let’s at least go inside for this, yeah?” His look is earnest and she only sighs a little as he pulls her up to her feet. He wraps an arm around her waist as they walk back inside.

It’s only after they’re back in the house that it occurs to Jake to ask, “Wasn’t that a library book?”

Jen turns around and looks from the smoldering mass to him and back, opening and closing her mouth a few times. She sighs. “ _Now_ you tell me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a commercial break. He should probably be preparing for the panel, maybe even reviewing his show notes or something like that. So, obviously, he spends his time thinking about things far beyond his control.

Like Jen.

There’s something between the two of them, there definitely is, except he can’t quite put his finger on it. It’s a weird feeling because they’re never like this. They’ve always had an open line of communication between them – she’d tell him what’s wrong, he’d tell her what’s wrong, they’d talk about it, they’d make it work.

He drank an entire bottle of whiskey alone in his office and he didn’t tell her. She burned a book because she felt betrayed by it. Neither of these people are who they usually are. What’s happening to them? He doesn’t like it.

There’s about thirty seconds until the break is over. The panelists have taken their seats and before any of them can even open their mouths to speak to him, he pulls out his phone and sends a text.

_Come by the studio tomorrow_

The reply comes almost instantaneously. _You could’ve waited until you got home to tell me, you know, instead of during your show._

He forces down a smile and looks to the camera. “Welcome back.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Jake believed in divine signs, then literally running into Jim a second time would’ve been a sign. Now that he thinks about it, running into him the first time might’ve been a sign if he believed hard enough.

Papers fly out of both their hands and they quickly scramble to catch them before they fall out of order. It takes Jake a couple of seconds to realize he’s also dropped his glasses until he sees Jim handing them over.

“I believe you need these to see, don’t you?” Jim hums softly.

“To read, actually,” Jake replies. He doesn’t mean for it to sound ungrateful but the stupid smirk Jim always has just makes him snap like some sort of subconscious response.

“I see,” Jim says, then laughs, and Jake belatedly realizes he’s made a pun. A terrible pun, which, of course, means it’s a _great_ pun, and he wants to punch him in the face when Jim adds, “I guess that two-year age gap really makes a difference, doesn’t it?”

Now Jake _really_ wants to punch him. He lets out a slow breath and shakes his head. “At least I’m not dying my hair to cover my premature grey,” he retorts.

“Hey,” Jim huffs, but there’s a grin on his face, fuck does he ever not smile? He opens his mouth to say something but someone else beats him to the punch. Someone Jake knows all too well.

“Wow,” Jen hums as she steps forward, arms crossed and a slight smirk on her lips. “If I had known that my husband spent his time at work insulting his friends and coworkers, I would’ve stopped by earlier.”

Jim shakes his head with a slight chuckle. “Your husband and I aren’t friends,” he says. The words strike at Jake, tug at something in his chest, and he’s about to reply to them when Jen shakes her head.

“Even better,” she sighs. “My husband is getting into fights with complete strangers.” She leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek and he kisses her back.

He clears his throat. “I – what are you doing here?”

“Jake,” she says, slowly, “you invited me just yesterday, remember?”

“I did?”

Jim laughs again. “You know, they say that memory goes right along with vision.” He taps Jake’s glasses, in his coat pocket, and Jake swats his hand away.

“Don’t you have someone else’s show to do?” he snaps.

“Actually, _you_ have your own show to do, don’t you?” Jen says. She checks her time on her phone and nods. “Yeah, you’ve got about half an hour to prepare, so you should get on that.” She lets go of his arm and turns to Jim. “Jake never invites me here, so I rarely get to look around. Mind giving me a tour of the place?”

“I would not mind that at all, Mrs. Tapper,” Jim smiles and he holds out his arm.

“Oh, please,” she smiles back, “only Jake’s friends call me Mrs. Tapper. Complete strangers can call me Jen.”

“Jen it is, then.” He throws Jake a wink as they start walking away and Jen waves sweetly at him, and Jake has a strong feeling he’s really going to regret this later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jake wakes to the sound of a high-pitched, static-y radio station and lets out a groan. “Jen,” he mumbles, nudging her slightly, “make it stop.”

“I would if you could stop hitting me,” Jen grumbles in response. Her hand misses the clock a couple of times, slamming the nightstand instead, before the vague and not at all pleasing sound finally stops and they both let out a sigh of relief.

“We should really get a new clock,” he says, after a couple of moments.

“You’re the bigshot anchor, you should get it yourself.” She starts rolling her eyes, then frowns as his laughter extends beyond his usual length. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says, smiling a little. “Just... you’re not the only person to have called me that recently.”

“Really?” she raises a brow. “Well, glad to know that other people call you out on your shit.” She playfully slaps his arm and he chuckles again, trailing off into a sigh as he reaches for his phone. As it turns out, Twitter is probably the single worst thing to do when you want to be happy. But he should’ve known that already.

“What is it?” Jen asks, when she sees his frown, and Jake shows her the tweet. She lets out a slow breath. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he says. He drops the phone into the space between them, wrapping his arm around her as she rolls herself over into him. The silence between them is heavy and, if he thinks about it, a little terrifying.

He can’t hear the kids. They haven’t woken up yet. There’s little relief in that, though, because that means he and Jen can spend some time together and while that’s great and all, he.

He doesn’t know how he feels about that right now.

It’s Jen who breaks the silence first. She has her head on his shoulder but she’s looking right up at the ceiling. Her voice is so soft. “You know,” she says, “I’m not really scared of nuclear war.”

“Yeah?” Jake says. It’s not a question, not a statement, just something to say so she knows he’s listening.

“Yeah,” she nods, body otherwise still. She doesn’t even seem to be breathing. “There’s something I’m more afraid of.”

He wants to ask her what, and maybe she wants him to ask too, but the words refuse to come out of his throat and so he doesn’t say anything at all. Neither of them say anything.

Her hand finds his and they lie there until the kids wake up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You look really tense, Jake,” Mary tells him when he closes the show. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Rahmeen gives him a concerned look while he removes his mike and Jake gives him a smile too. They both know it’s faked but, lucky for Jake, Rahmeen is called away on business before he can call him out for it.

He avoids everyone else for the rest of the day, hiding out in his office under the guise of doing work, and he plans it out so well that he doesn’t run into anyone else when he finally leaves the office. That is, until Jim gets into the elevator right after him.

“Hi,” Jim smiles, infuriating, infatuating, he’s smiling even though so many people hate him and they don’t even know him. He’s smiling all the time.

Jake doesn’t know why he does it. Maybe it’s the imminent threat of nuclear war, maybe it’s the fear his marriage is in some Schrödinger state of death or revival, maybe it’s just the fact that Jim is smiling all the fucking time. Something shifts inside of him.

“Take me out on your boat,” he says, maybe demands. Doesn’t really matter, does it?

Jim blinks. “You know I have a boat?”

“Everyone knows you have a boat,” Jake sighs. He shakes his head. “Just… please. I need to get away from here right now.”

There’s a brief pause, and Jim looks so soft and concerned. He’s not smiling. Jake keeps looking at the elevator, at the numbers counting down, down, down. He barely hears him sigh, when the doors finally open, but he sees him gesture his hand and he follows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s not until they’re out in the open water, away from the constraints of the city, that Jake finally speaks. His coat is somewhere in Jim’s car, as are his shoes, and he’s sitting barefoot on the deck. His clothes are completely wrong for sailing but he doesn’t really care.

“We can stop by your place,” Jim had said, in the car ride there. He had spare clothes in the boat. Smart, but it wasn’t as though he was expecting company.

Jake had shaken his head and didn’t say anything in response. He sent Jen a text earlier saying he was going to be late, then shoved it in Jim’s glove compartment and didn’t check it again. He still loves her, though.

It’s just. It’s all too much.

“I don’t really go sailing,” he says, over the quiet roar of the water.

Jim shrugs from behind the wheel. “It’s all right. I like it well enough.”

“Yeah.” The land is a little more distant now, he can only see the lights, can barely make anything out. He prefers it this way. No wonder Jim comes out here so often. “It’s nice here.” He stands up, slowly, and walks over to him.

“It is,” Jim agrees. He’s not driving (if that’s the correct terminology for boating), just leaned against the steering. His eyes are lit up and so is his smile and Jake’s never really seen him like this, outside of the office, looking like a normal person.

His lips are warm and inviting, and his skin is softer than Jake had expected but he really shouldn’t be too surprised, given how vain Jim is. But all is forgiven because he kisses so nicely. They pull apart at the same time but not far enough that their breath doesn’t mix when they exhale. The air around them is cool and breezy and the air between them is hot.

“Jim,” he says, voice whispered now, barely able to raise it above, “you know I’m married, and I love my wife.”

To his credit, Jim doesn’t even bat an eye. “I know,” he replies, louder than Jake could even imagine speaking right now. “And you know that you kissed me first, and that whatever sort of emotional feud that’s going to emerge between you and Jen, it’s going to be because of what you did.”

He knows, of course he does – the rational part of his brain understands that what he’s doing is very, _very_ wrong but the thing is it’s… it’s different. It’s like drinking a whole bottle of whiskey or burning a book, it’s something you don’t ordinarily do but impulse takes over and you do it anyway, even though you know the consequences.

They step around, onto the deck, and then Jim cups the side of his face as they kiss again. He really is vain, Jake thinks, because his hands are so soft, comforting and present, fingers brushing his cheekbones and curling into his hair.

In the distance, the sound of traffic.

Jake takes a step forward, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. This is the first time he’s kissed anyone other than Jen and he really has no idea what he’s doing. But Jim clearly does. He takes one of Jake’s hands and sets it on his waist, and then he starts undoing the buttons on his shirt.

Jake’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t pull away, as Jim mumbles against his lips, “It’s okay, I’ve done this before, just let me take control, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jake finds himself saying. He nods and says it again. “Yeah, okay.” He’s not really sure what to focus on, Jim’s hands starting to pull out his belt or his lips trailing down the side of his jaw. They’re out in the open, away from others, but still out in the open, still able to be seen by any wandering eyes that might just happen to look over at them.

In the air, the smell of water, he pretends it’s the sea.

Jim warns him it’s going to be a little uncomfortable, a little awkward, as he climbs into one of the seats and helps straddle his hips. It feels a little weird, his pants against his shorts, clothed thighs against bare ones, but Jake makes himself relax until he’s actually relaxing.

He tries not to laugh at the fact that Jim has lube and condoms on his boat, but honestly, how many people does he take out here? How many people has he wined and dined and then fucked in this very chair, warning them it was going to be uncomfortable and then assuring them he’d take care of them?

Then Jim presses a finger inside of him and Jake stops thinking. It’s not necessarily a foreign feeling – this isn’t his first time doing anal, whatever anyone might believe – but that doesn’t mean it’s not a strange feeling. But a good strange. It’s been a while.

His breath catches a little in his throat when Jim presses in the second finger, and he holds onto his shoulders. It’s so hot, his shirt sticks to his back and chest, sweat beading down his forehead and covering his neck. Jim’s sweating too but for whatever reason, it looks better on him. His hair is sticking up and his lips are parted and all he’s doing is looking right at him.

Complete, total attention on him. Jake leans down to kiss him and he kisses back and because he’s a romantic at heart, Jake imagines there’s something behind it. Something more than just a kiss.

The sex itself isn’t bad, but Jake rushes it, the fear of getting caught rising in the back of his mind as the sky slowly darkens and day turns to night. He fucks himself on his dick, loose and unrestrained, and if Jake stopped to think about it, the loud moans he lets out as Jim kisses a bruise into the nape of his neck might draw more attention to them.

But then Jim starts to suck on one of his nipples and Jake forgets his own name. His tongue is hot and his lips are rough, and Jake jerks his hips as he grabs onto his dick and starts rubbing furiously.

A couple of well-placed thrusts on Jim’s part drive him over the edge, spilling into his hand with a wordless sigh. It takes Jim a little while after to come, probably because Jake doesn’t do much except catch his own breath, and then they just sit there. They just sit there and breathe.

The sun is going down and Jim leans over to whisper in his ear, “Let me take you home.”

Jake takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

The ride back is long and silent. Jake jumps out of the car when Jim stops and he doesn’t even look back to say goodbye.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been out, but the house is silent when he enters. He’s careful not to make any noise as he climbs the stairs, into the bedroom, and takes a seat on the bed. He’s turned away from Jen and waits until he hears her shuffle before speaking.

“Jen,” he says. His voice sounds so calm, and then he realizes that it’s not his voice, but his newscaster voice. He’s using his newscaster voice on his wife, how fucked up is that? Well, not as fucked up as what he’s about to say next. “Jen, I just had sex with Jim.”

Jake waits a beat, then another, then another, then finally turns around. Jen’s turning the lamp on and then she looks at him, eyes wide, still a little sleepy, and she looks more shocked than anything else. And there must be something wrong with him on some molecular level or at the very least chemical, because all he can think when he sees her is that he loves her.

He leans over and kisses her. Just a quick brush against her lips but it feels like he’s melting into the sheets and into her, she’s so familiar and so kind and maybe she hates him now but he loves her so much, so much. His head falls into her lap and he closes his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The only reason it feels like a dream is because neither of them mention it in the morning. Not that it’s intentional – the kids ended up waking them and it’s just a mad dash around, trying to get breakfast ready before work and trying to keep everyone happy or at the very least, distracted.

It works. The kids don’t notice anything – well, Jack wouldn’t, but Alice might’ve – but it goes well. He kisses their heads, takes a few pictures with Winnie and Clementine for later, and it’s a normal morning all the way until he’s heading to his car and Jen follows him.

“Jake,” she says, tucking her hands into the pockets of her cardigan, “we need to talk.”

His body freezes up but he can’t turn away, can’t walk away from this. He can’t avoid it. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we need to talk.”

She sighs, lowering her shoulders, but her gaze doesn’t waver from him. “I probably shouldn’t be letting you talk,” she admits. “But I do love you and I want to give you the chance to explain yourself.”

At first, he’s afraid he’s not going to have the words to explain what he did, why he did it, how it changes nothing about how he feels about her, and everything he thinks of sounds like an excuse. But when he opens his mouth, the words just spill out.

“I love you too,” he says, quietly. “I love you so much. I love you so much that sometimes I think it’s going to kill me and I might hate you for it and I don’t want to. I never want to hate you, or the kids, or our life, but sometimes it just gets to the point where I can’t breathe and…”

He pauses, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He doesn’t look away from her. “And I know it doesn’t explain away anything, but you wanted to know why, so I’m telling you. I did it because I was bored and I didn’t want to tell you that I was. And Jim, he was…”

When he pauses this time, it’s to search for the right words, because he needs to make sure she understands why. “He’s got his own baggage,” he finally says. “He’s got his own baggage and he doesn’t care for mine, not really. He’s not like you, he’s not looking to help me, make me feel better, anything like that. He just saw what I wanted and gave it to me and I just… I needed something like that.”

“Something like what?” Jen asks, softly.

“Just… something.”

The silence between them is long and painful and when she finally speaks again, it’s just to say, “Have a good day at work, Jake.”

“Okay,” Jake says. “I love you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The door to his office is already open when he gets there, but nothing is missing. In fact, something is just added – his phone. It’s right there on the middle of his desk with a small note beside it.

 _You left this_ , it says, in messy, loopy handwriting. _Thought you might need it_.

Jake’s mouth falls open. He slowly sinks into his chair and takes the note, finger trailing the letters. His heart is heavy in his chest and he doesn’t know why. He grabs the phone and calls him. “It was a mistake,” he says the moment he picks up, skipping pleasantries.

“What was?” Jim asks. “The phone or… or the other thing?”

“Both,” Jake sighs. “Both. I… I’m married, we really can’t be doing something like –”

“Okay, I’m going to cut you off right there.” Jim’s voice is clearly exasperated, tired, tone firm and demanding. Jake doesn’t argue. “I told you last night, whatever is happening with you, it’s entirely your fault. I don’t want to hear whatever existential crisis you’re going through right now, okay? You kissed me first. Remember that.”

“I know,” Jake says. “I know, it’s just…”

“It’s just what?” Jim scoffs. “Just easier to make me out for the bad guy because you can’t let yourself just accept that you have flaws, that you can be a terrible person too? Oh wait, I forgot, you’re Jake fucking Tapper, you’re a self-righteous megalomaniac who thinks he’s fucking infallible and better than us other journalists.”

“I – I don’t think that,” Jake stammers out. He tries to think of a response but the best he can come up with is, “Everyone knows you’re an attention-seeking grandstander anyway, so you’ve got no right to say anything to me.”

When Jim laughs, it’s high and cold and sends chills down Jake’s spine. He doesn’t like it at all. “You’re acting as though you don’t love it whenever someone calls you the epitome of modern journalism, huh? You’re just as attention-seeking as anyone else.”

“At least I didn’t lose my wife because of it,” Jake snaps, and as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he realizes he’s gone too far.

There’s a long beat of silence and then Jim says, “Fuck you,” and hangs up without another word.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They wait until the kids are asleep, as they always do, to have their serious conversation. Jake’s tired, but he’s always tired, so he just sits down on the bed beside Jen and they both stare at their feet for a couple of minutes until one of them finally gets up the nerve to speak.

This time, it’s Jake. “Do you think…” he starts, then pauses, then starts again. “Do you think I’m self-righteous and an attention seeker?”

Jen barely hesitates with responding. “Yes,” she says. “I do. At least, a little.”

“Oh.”

They fall back into silence, until she lets out a long sigh and turns her head to face him. “I’ve thought about it,” she says, slowly, “and I just… I don’t think I’m actually angry about the cheating. I mean, I am, but that’s a whole different thing. There’s something I’m even angrier about.”

Jake blinks. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to say anything, but he’s not going to let this moment go by like he did before. “What are you angrier about?”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, licking her lips a little as she thinks, and then she finally says it. “I’m angry you got to escape and I didn’t.”

There’s no way Jake can even think of a response to that. He has no idea what to say, but she spares him by continuing. “I know this has all been hard on you, but you don’t think it’s been hard for me too? We’re both stuck in this monotonous, loving relationship – which is the worst kind because I love you and the kids too but the thing is, nothing ever happens.”

Jen stops to take a breath and when she looks at him, her expression is so pained, it hurts just to look at it. “Do you know why I burned that book?” she asks. “It was because I was bored. But not just by the book – by everything. The only real excitement in my life is watching the news, but even that is so fucking distant, and I know you feel the same way.

“We’re just sort of blankly living, you and I, and I’m angry that you got to escape and I didn’t.”

There’s more silence, and then he wraps his arms around her and pulls her in for a hug. He kisses the top of her head and feels her shake, just slightly, into his chest. He sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “You… you deserve an escape too.”

“I know I do,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “And don’t worry, I’ll figure out a way to do it.” She pulls away to wipe her face, then smiles at him. “Maybe I’ll do what you did.”

Jake has no idea how to respond, and so he laughs. He laughs and says, “I love you,” and she smiles and says, “I love you too.”

It’s nice to be loved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 _We should talk_ , Jake texts. There’s no response.

“Is everything all right?” Rahmeen asks, as he’s setting up his mike, and Jake shrugs.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Everything is… everything’s all right.” And he knows Rahmeen wants to press on, but they’ve only got a minute until time and he runs off to do other things.

Jim doesn’t appear on The Lead, hasn’t for a while, and Jake doesn’t ask why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You know,” Jake says, “we could’ve resolved this some other way.” He’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed over one another and he’s cuddling up with Winnie, but his eyes are focused on Jen at the dresser.

She pulls up her forehead and applies mascara on her right eye. “Well,” she hums, “it’s either this or I make you sleep on the roof for the next month. Your choice.”

He sighs. She has an excellent point, and he leans back, putting Winnie on his chest. “At least don’t dress up,” he mumbles.

“I let you do what you want, Jake, now let me do what I want.” And before he can even respond to her, there’s a knock from downstairs. Jake jumps up as soon as he hears Alice shout, “I’ll get it!” and he replies, louder, “No, sweetie, that’s all right, let Daddy answer the door.”

He turns to look at Jen. “Tell him I’ll be a few minutes,” she says, then looks back into the mirror to start on her other eye.

Winnie follows him downstairs and Jake makes sure he’s not going to make for the door before he opens it. And there’s Jim, just standing there, just waiting. He’s got a slightly awkward smile on when he sees Jake and he shifts from foot to foot.

“Hi,” he says. “I’m here to take your wife out to dinner at my place and then have sex with her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jake sighs. He pauses. “Does that make me a cuck for agreeing to something like this?” And when Jim laughs, it loosens something in Jake’s chest and maybe he… maybe he wants to…

“Hey, Jake?” Jim says, waiting until Jake’s jolted back into the present before continuing. “I know when we last spoke, some words were exchanged that were very harsh and mean and –”

Jake cuts him off. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry about what I said. That was completely uncalled for and also incorrect. I’m really sorry.”

For a second, Jim looks surprised. “I… it’s okay,” he says. “Well, no, it’s not, but I forgive you.” His eyes soften and for a second, Jake wonders if he’s going to apologize too. But Jen’s voice comes down the stairs, as she’s saying bye to the kids, and then she’s at the door.

She looks so beautiful and for a second, it’s so saddening to see her go. He leans over and kisses her cheek. “Have a good night,” he hums softly.

“We will,” she says, winking cheekily. Jim laughs again as he takes her arm and Jake watches them get into the car, before he finally closes the door. He promises himself he’s not going to think about it all night. And he almost doesn’t.

In fact, it’s only when the kids are asleep and Jake’s lying in bed, all alone, that he finally thinks about it. About the fact that it’s nearing the middle of the night and Jen still hasn’t come home.

They’re fucking. Of course they’re fucking, that much is obvious, they told him as much. God, that’s probably not indicative of a healthy marital relationship, is it? The fact that his wife is out right now having sex with a man who he himself had sex with?

He wonders what they’re doing. He wonders who kisses who first. Maybe it’s Jim, confident only because he knows he’s allowed to, and he brushes back Jen’s hair as he leans forward to kiss her. And Jen, she’s probably excited, in a morbid way, to have sex with the man that made her husband stray. She wouldn’t hold back, would probably just move right in and into his lap, hiking up her dress and spreading her legs.

Jake bites his lip and kicks off the covers. It’s getting too hot. He takes a deep breath.

It depends on how fast Jim would want to go, whether he goes right for it or if he teases her first. His hands would be soft on her skin as he pulls down the straps of her dress and - was Jen wearing a bra? Jake should know, and maybe he does, but his brain insists that she wasn’t. That when Jim pulls down her dress, he can kiss her bare chest and tease her nipples, carefully, with those fingers of his. Jen would tilt her head back and put her hands on his, lips parting as she sighs.

Jake really needs to stop thinking about this. It’s wrong on so many levels. And it’s the literal definition of a cuckhold. And fucking yet, his dick is starting to tent his pants and his mind refuses to think of anything else.

Only how Jen would moan when Jim rolls his hips into her, how she would dig her nails into his shoulders and arch her back, how he would touch her bare skin and kiss the side of her neck and leave a bruise right where he left one on Jake and oh, would they think about him, would Jen think about how she’s fucking the man who fucked her husband, would Jim think about how he’s fucking Jake’s wife right after fucking him?

One of his hands is already rubbing at his dick, fast and hurried strokes, and the other grips the sheets so tight they might rip. Jim would be gentle with her, his fingers light on her waist and his kisses feathery and soft, but Jen wouldn’t do the same, she’d make him leave marks and mementos so when she come home, she could show her husband that she, too, escaped, that she’s no longer trapped, that they’re both finally living, and –

He’s in the shower when Jen finally returns and the lights are all off as he climbs into bed. He wraps his arms around her and kisses her shoulder. “Hi,” he says softly.

Jen leans into him and hums. “Now we’re even.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jake is the one to text first. _Thank you_.

Jim’s reply comes hours later. _Anytime_.

“Jake, stop grinning down at your phone,” Rahmeen sighs from behind the camera, and Jake flushes as he puts it away.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I just… got some good news, that’s all.”

Rahmeen rolls his eyes, but there’s a certain softness to it, and it’s clear that he’s happy. Happy that Jake finally doesn’t look like he’s slowly dying anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Jake, your phone is buzzing,” Jen mumbles into his shoulder, and Jake groans as he reaches over for the table to grab it. He misses it a couple of times before managing to wrap his fingers around it and read whatever messages that just came in.

Oh, not messages. Tweets. He groans. “Aw, fuck.”

“Aw fuck what?” she asks. Her voice is still soft and mumbled and he knows she’s half asleep, but he puts the phone to her face and watches as her vision clears and reality sets in. “Aw, fuck,” she mumbles quietly.

“Nuclear crisis again,” he sighs.

“Fuck that,” she grumbles, turning over on her other side. “Wake me up when the North Koreans have finally blown up our Commander-in-Chief.”

Jake giggles, just a little, corners of his mouth quirking as he scrolls through the rest of Twitter. And maybe it’s just kismet, maybe it’s just by chance, definitely because he just saw Jim’s Twitter avatar, but whatever the case may be, he suddenly says, “It’s always been on my bucket list to have a threesome before I die.”

Jen shifts back over to him. “Okay, because it was your idea, you have to call Grandma and Grandpa to take care of the kids.” And her laughter is light and happy when he pretends to throw a pillow at her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Jim arrives that evening, he looks possibly _more_ awkward than he did the night he came by to pick up Jen. But, well, he looks good. It’s hard not to smile at someone like him (even if Jake is still peeved at the fact he never apologized for calling him a self-righteous megalomaniac).

“Hi,” Jake says.

“Hi,” Jim says. He holds up a bottle of wine. “I know you don’t drink, but I didn’t want to come here empty-handed. Been taught better manners than that.”

“Jen will love it, I’m sure.” Jake gestures him inside, taking the bottle from his hands and leading him into the kitchen. He sets it down on the dinner table. “Just, you know, sit down. I’ll go help Jen in the kitchen and then we’ll eat.”

“Eat,” Jim repeats with a nod. “Eat and then…” he gestures vaguely, trailing off as Jen enters with a bright smile and a steaming hot platter of something.

“You know,” she hums, “if you’re going to blame anyone this time, you should blame Mr. Boytoy here as he’s the one who was all, ‘before I die, I want to have a threesome’.”

Jake sputters on air, face turning pink, but Jim just laughs. His eyes light up as he turns to Jake and says, “You’ve got an incredible wife, Jake. I don’t think I could handle being around her.”

“What makes you think _he_ can?” Jen asks, and Jim laughs again. Jake wonders what he just got himself into, but at the same time, it builds up a certain sort of excitement. He lets out a slow breath and goes to the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After dinner, they drink. Well, not Jake, but Jim and Jen. The three of them sit together on one of the couches that Jake would normally love lying on to cuddle with Winnie, but it’s the only one where they could all sit together and not feel left out.

He’s not sure how much to drink the others have had, maybe two or three glasses each. Jen’s face is dusted pink and Jim’s eyes are sparkling and they’re both laughing about something that might’ve made more sense if he’d been tipsy too. He watches Jim put his hand on Jen’s thigh, just barely moving his thumb in slow, comforting circles. Jake thinks they’re going to kiss.

Jim puts his glass on the table, then turns his head to kiss him instead. He does it with both hands, pulling him in and holding his face gently as Jake’s mind rushes to process what’s happening. Jim is kissing him. Again. This time, in front of his wife.

What a whacky turn of events. And then he feels hysterical giggles bubble up and burst out through his mouth, interrupting the kiss, because honestly, what was that? ‘Whacky turn of events’? He covers his mouth and tries to stop.

“Wow,” Jen says, “I can’t believe you got him drunk off of just your kisses.” Jim’s laughter rings out deep and true, and Jake looks up just in time to see her leaning against him, her hands on his shoulder as he holds her waist and they kiss. She’s so small in his hands, soft and gentle, but they both know otherwise.

When they pull apart, Jim is out of breath. “Well,” he sighs, “I think now’s about the time we move it to the bedroom, yeah?”

Jake can’t resist it, he raises a brow and asks, “Are you telling me this isn’t your first time having a threesome?” The look Jim gives him is maniacal and mischievous and when he leans over to kiss him again, he doesn’t start laughing. It’s short and brief but there’s a lot behind it, tongue and teeth and heat and Jake feels his toes curl as he lets out a soft sigh.

Jim finally pulls away. “Yeah,” he hums. “It’s definitely time to move into the bedroom.” He pulls up Jen with him, and she takes his hand to pull him along. She rolls her eyes when he leans down to kiss the side of her neck, pausing only to pull up her shirt and toss it aside. Jake nearly trips over it as he follows them.

If he’s honest with himself, he kind of feels like Cameron Frye – there, but just roped into the shenanigans, not the real star of the show. Not like Ferris and Sloane, undressing each other in front of him, sparkling and shining and he can’t even be upset that he’s not them because just being near them is enough for him. He gets to be around them and that’s amazing enough.

When Jen’s stripped down to her bra and underwear and Jim’s just in his boxers, they both turn around and turn to Jake. The attention makes his face heat up and he tries to look away. He’s still wearing all his clothes.

Jim turns to Jen and kisses her cheek, then walks back over to Jake. “Need some help?” he asks, chuckling to himself.

Jake blushes harder. “I…” he doesn’t know what to say, because it would be stupid to say anything like, _I got distracted watching you two_ or _I could do it on my own but I want someone else to because I like the feeling_. Luckily, Jim takes his stammered silence as an answer and starts to unbutton his shirt. Jake wishes he could help but he can’t exactly move, just lets Jim take over and goes through the motions.

His belt slides out of his pants and Jake just sort of steps out of them when they fall to the floor. The air is a little chilly and goosebumps litter his skin but when he looks at Jim, smiling at him, everything feels so hot all of a sudden. He blushes again, rubbing the back of his head.

“You look good,” Jim hums appreciatively. He takes his hand and presses a kiss to his palm, pulling him along as they follow Jen into the bedroom.

As far as threesomes go, Jake has no idea what he’s supposed to be doing. Sure, he’s seen them on TV plenty of times, but the exact mechanics are always fuzzed out. But as far as he knows, it always seemed as though one person was fucked by the other two. And he’s a gentleman, of course he’ll let Jen be that one person, but, well, there is a small part of him (okay fine a large part) that would, you know… also like to get fucked.

God, he really does love attention, doesn’t he?

Jen is lying down on the bed, hair already messy and tousled, and Jim is right on top of her. He brushes her hair off her forehead and looks over at Jake expectantly. “Well, then?”

“Uh…” Jake says, blinking.

“Jake, weren’t you listening?” Jen asks with a slight huff. Jim just laughs, shaking his head as he looks back down at her. “I told you, hearing goes right after sight.” He looks back to him, smiling a little kinder now as he says, “Threesomes need three people, Jake, and the whole point is to make sure no one feels left out. Not even you.”

Jake isn’t sure how to respond. Jen sighs and shakes her head. “He understands,” she tells Jim. “He just doesn’t know what to say.”

“Can’t believe you get so speechless so fast,” Jim chuckles again. He raises a hand and inclines him over, and Jake finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed. Jim kisses the corner of his mouth and brushes his lips over his cheek, soft vibrations as he hums something. Jake can’t hear what he says.

It’s too late to ask, either, as Jim turns his attentions back to Jen. His mouth moves down her jaw, slowly, lingering whenever she sighs and kissing a little harder when she does. Her eyes are lidded and her lips are parted and it’s a little strange because he’s never seen her like this, not from this angle, at least.

When Jim starts to unhook her bra, Jake leans in to for a brief kiss. Well, he intends for it to be brief, but Jen grabs the back of his head and pulls him closer until all he can feel is her. He doesn’t know what Jim is doing but he has a good guess, especially when Jen sighs into the kiss and her grip on him tightens.

He sucks on her lower lip and he can feel her pulse, fast and heavy and beating, and part of him feels like he’s fallen in love with her all over again.

There’s a slight weight against his leg that he doesn’t pay attention to at first, but a couple of moments later, Jen cuts off the kiss to lean her head back, moaning softly. And Jake looks down to see that Jim is sitting right between her thighs and eating her out.

He rubs the insides of her legs, gently, as she grips his hair. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her mouth hangs open and he just watches her like that. She looks so beautiful, he loves her so much. Jim comes up for breath, just for a moment, and Jake presses his lips against one of the forming bruises on her neck. She lets out a soft noise and fuck does it get him harder.

When she comes, it’s with a soft sigh. Her back arches up and her hands latch to the sheets and neither Jim nor Jake stop what they’re doing until her breathing slows and she’s relaxing into the sheets.

Jake takes her hand and kisses her fingers, as Jim slowly rises to his feet. He rolls his neck, shrugging his shoulders a bit, then gestures Jake over. His eyes are dark and his smile is low and the stupidly sensible part of Jake’s brain knows that it would be incredibly unhygienic to kiss right now but fuck it, he sits up and lets Jim kiss him.

It’s a strange sensation, wet with undertones of wine somewhere in there, but the knowledge of what he’s doing turns him on more than anything else and he pulls Jim closer. They fall back on the bed and Jake refuses to let them stop kissing. Jim’s mouth must be tired but Jake doesn’t really care about that right now. He just focuses on wrapping his hand around Jim’s dick and moaning when Jim does the same.

Sure, he would’ve preferred to have gotten fucked raw by him, pounding into him relentlessly, gripping him tightly and marking his skin, but this is good too. Jim’s hands are big and his fingers are dexterous and Jake just tries to keep enough brainpower to do the same for him.

Jim grunts when he comes, low and in Jake’s ear, teeth gritted until they loosen into a sigh. Jake’s breath catches in his throat when he does and his vision goes white until his heart stops pounding and the outside world comes back into focus.

And then it’s just the three of them, lying back on a too-small bed, just catching their breath. Jen is the first to recover, and she gets up, stretching her back and pulling up her panties. “I gotta pee,” she says.

“Yeah,” Jim says, breathless still. He watches her go, idly wrapping an arm around Jake, who just leans into it. Why not, after what they’ve done? They just sit there for a couple of moments in silence, when Jim speaks again. “What I said that day, on the phone, I might’ve been too harsh but I do think it’s true.”

“Yeah?” Jake sighs, but only because his body is exhausted and Jim is so warm and comfortable. He presses against him further still and tries to keep his eyes open.

“Yeah,” Jim says. He pauses. “And what you said – not the last bit, but the middle bit – that’s true too. But it comes with the territory, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” Jake’s voice is mostly a mumble now, the exhaustion settling into his bones, wow is he getting old. Jim’s hand rubs his arm gently and he presses a kiss to his head.

Jake hasn’t been held in a while and it feels so nice. He closes his eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the mornings, during breakfast, Jake likes to do crosswords. Always New York Times, sometimes others too, just to keep his brain active. He frowns down at his phone and regards it carefully, as Jen slides into her seat and picks at her omelet.

Jim takes the seat between the two of them and raises his brow at Jake. “What’s up?”

“Ten across,” he replies. “French for shared hallucination.”

“Folie à deux,” Jen says, at the same time as Jim says, “Ménage à trois.”

Jake sets down his phone and Jen sets down her fork and they both just stare at Jim as he goes over what he just said. “Wait,” he says slowly, “that’s not exactly right, is it?”

“No, I think you nailed it,” Jake chuckles, laughing when Jen groans and Jim just smiles obliviously between the two of them. Yeah, maybe this will sort of work out. Everyone needs a little escape.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Walk It Back" by the National. If you follow me on tumblr, you know how much I love them.
> 
> Anyway, support real news.


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